Outlands
by afterados
Summary: A man seeking the only home he can remember. Another searching for his all-but-forgotten wife. And a young girl bent on vengeance for her murdered family. In a land where worlds collide, these three will meet. Welcome to the Outlands.
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1_

The fields of Southtown were beautiful this time of year. Spring was in full blossom, showcasing sunlight dancing through the trees and flowers poking their heads above seas of grass. Livestock, scattered across the field, grazed like no tomorrow, with the various noises of cows, pigs, goats, and more ringing together to create an odd sounding orchestra.

One such animal, a sheep, meandered over to an untouched spot of grass. Noticing nothing else in the immediate vicinity, it stomped its feet and bleated in pleasure. Dipping its head down, it slowly tore out a chunk of delicious flora, and raised its head to chew-

-only to be interrupted by a loud _thwack! _from below it.

The sheep looked down to see an implement of some sort, one of its two sharp sides buried in the ground while its handle quivered with released fury. The mammal looked back up to see the rapid approach of four other mammals, previously hidden by an old tree. She stared at their approach, still chewing, and uninterested.

Until the realization hit that most of them had glinting objects in their hands, and they _weren't slowing down_.

The poor sheep let the half-masticated grass fall from her mouth as she _baa_-ed in terror. The first approaching animal leapt over the fleecy obstacle, dark coat trailing behind him, and fired off a yellow, crackling bolt. The sheep froze when the bolt shot over her, and flew past the other three mammals as they thundered by, screaming.

"Git over 'ere, ya slippery bastard!"

"Lookie here, we've gotta runner!"

"And a rich 'un too, jes' lookit them fine robes!"

"Ha-HA! Yer right, this 'un's got some gold to spare! Let's take 'im out to- HWAAARGH!"

One of the animals –a man- was cut off when a charged ball punched his face and threw him off his feet, rolling roughly to the ground.

The offending mammal grinned when he heard the surprised shouts of the other two bandits, and tightened his fingers around a _thunder _tome. Panting hard, he sprinted through the plains, grey hair already in a tumble as the quick crunches of rougher plants underfoot replaced the sounds of more edible grass.

He had to admit, this was _not _exactly the reception he'd imagined when his body had turned to purple haze on top of a monster, hearing his family cry _"Robin!"_ But he couldn't complain now.

He was _back!_

"Ya son of a bitch! Take _this!_"

The small axe that whirled by Robin's face was an effective attention grabber. He tilted his head, and the axe whished by and hit the ground with a _thud, _accompanied by a displeased grunt. A squawk soon followed when the tactician discharged another projectile.

He narrowed his eyes at the sound of his miss, still huffing heavily as he pumped his arms. _I can't do this forever. They'll catch up sooner or later, and it'll be game over for me with a two on one match like this._

_Let's see… _he mused, ducking another thrown axe. _Three men, armed with axes… low precision, but high damage. _He sidestepped yet another. _The logical response is to minimize their hit rate, and thus damage, even when impossible to attack at range._

Strategy in mind, Robin snapped his tome shut and shoved it in its holster on his waist. Drawing a bronze sword with a _schhing_, he spun to face the still-rushing bandits. One hesitated at the sudden stop, but threw his last hand axe after a moment, while the other drew a crude wooden toy, cheap appendage taped on to-

…Wait, was that an _axe? Yeesh. _Most bandits had _some _standards, at least. Who were _these _guys?

Dealing with the immediate problems first, the swordsman dropped down, letting the weapon arc over his head. The thrower cursed, but also slowed down to draw his other weapon.

Robin smirked. That was the only opening he needed.

The grandmaster surged forwards, sword flashing up and down to open calculated gashes on the nearer man. He tumbled back with a moan, but Robin ignored the noise, tacking back. The last man's eyes widened as he realized that he was flying solo now, and he hastily drew his axe into a defensive formation.

It didn't help much. Robin's simple sword sliced through the wooden base of the axe and continued through, past the bandit's leather padding and cutting into his flesh. Letting out a strangled gasp, the bandit stumbled, and looked up with a growl-

-just in time to see a boot take up his entire field of view. Robin's foot smashed into his face, and he toppled like a bad tower.

Chest heaving with exertion, the tactician lowered his foot back to rest and wiped the blood off his sword on the grass. Surveying his work on the unconscious (and/or possibly dead) bandits, his lips pulled back into a smile. Maybe he'd been gone for who-knew-how-long, but he still _had _it!

His little internal party was quickly crashed by the sound of leathery wings beating in the distance, and a snarl in the air above.

Robin whirled around to see a wyvern in full dive, talons extended to create the first ever Robin skewer. Leaping backwards, he evaded the powerful claws by a hair, only to pivot frantically to avoid the swing of a poleax, courtesy of the wyvern's rider. The axe buried itself into the earth, and the rider groaned a little.

Never one to miss out on a golden opportunity, Robin shoved his sword down in a very Chrom-like maneuver and flipped his book open. As he muttered an incantation, sparks danced across his fingers, and the wyvern rider dislodged his axe. He turned with a glower, but Robin's bolt was freed with a flick, and the rider ate a lifetime's dosage of lightning. Shrieking, he catapulted backwards off his wyvern and onto the fields.

Reptilian eyes shot fully open, and before Robin could react, the man's draconian partner turned quick enough to shear the grass underneath it. It jumped after its rider, smashing the ground in haste and covering him with scaly wings, snarling at the dark-robed threat.

Robin raised an eyebrow as he lowered his hand. Most wyverns were very solitary creatures, but bonded strongly with an 'Alpha' (usually a rider) after several years. However, the swordsman had rarely seen the phenomena with anyone outside of the Shepherds, and since the 'man' currently being protected looked no older than sixteen…

Just what the hell had happened while he was away?

He reached down to pluck his sword out of the earth, eyes still glued to the rumbling beast, and shoved his book back in its holster. Skirting around the beast, sword raised, he watched as the animal followed his movements with its head and neck, leaving the body to cover the boy.

This gave Robin a full view to the brand on its side. It was the Plegian coat of arms: the six eyes of Grima. But it was different than normal, with a slash cutting through the mark's symmetry. A marking like that usually signified someone who'd broke an army law, but it was usually placed on the forehead of wyvern and rider alike. So for them to so brazenly place the marking in an unorthodox place with no hiding…

Were they a renegade Plegian faction?

"There! The tactician!"

"It can't be, look at him! _Him,_ idjit!"

"Well, w_hoever _the hell he is, he jes' took out four of us. He's about to get _real _cozy with this 'ere axe!"

Robin barely registered their words as three heavy _thumps_ jolted him. He turned to find three wyvern riders eyeing him, duck-billed mouth guards closed and axes drawn. The middle wyvern let out a low grumble and took a step forward, its rider lazily flipping his visor open to fully reveal the same Plegian-traitor mark not branded, but _tattooed_ over half of his face.

"So," the newcomer drawled, "Ya seem to be quite the fighter. Care to tell us why ya hit us?"

"Quite a big assumption you've made there," Robin took a step back. "Would you be surprised to know that _you _attacked first?"

"With rabble like that?" He glanced back to the still bandits sprawled on the grassy plain. "Nah, not at all. I still think we shoulda kept our recruitin' to the army, 'stead of gettin' bandits too."

"The Plegian army?"

The rider snorted. "No. Whatever shit's left in our country, it ain't Plegia no more. But we're gettin' off track." He squinted down at Robin, a slow grin crawling over his face. "See, ya still gotta answer for knockin' us down. Dunno if I really care who started it, as long as _we _finish it."

"That can be arranged," Robin muttered, and turned his back on the rider trio. He ignored the angry shrieks of wyverns mixed with war cries as they took to the skies, and instead focused on the maw of the protective wyvern he was currently sprinting for.

Robin didn't know much about wyvern bonding habits (certainly not as much as Cherche or Gerome). But he _was _pretty sure that while multiple wyverns could bond with one Alpha, one wyvern couldn't bond with multiple Alphas.

So… hopefully…

The wyvern roared, snapping at Robin as he juked around to its side. His back hit the rough side of the beast just as the other three wyverns hit their dives above, riders clinging onto reins as gravity snatched them and tossed them towards their target.

Fortunately, Robin's gamble paid off.

Wyverns were intelligent creatures (The tactician knew far too many stories about a certain ornery wyvern to say otherwise), but when placed in a situation where their Alpha is in danger, they pushed most logical reasoning aside in favor of protection. So when three potential threats came soaring out of the sky, the remaining wyvern reacted. Violently.

Disregarding the quieter threat pressed against its side, the creature roared its defiance to the others and snapped at them, armored tail flashing upwards. The ligament crashed into the side of a rider's head, and his body fell limply forward. His steed hit the ground hard, though making sure to keep its rider on top, and turned to the other wyvern, bellowing at the offending animal with teeth bared and spittle flying.

Robin was still as the drama unfolded. But he flinched when an axe came spinning by his face, clanging off the wyvern's plating. Swerving in the sky was the tattooed man, furrowed brow combined with crinkled eyes as he redrew his other axe, easily recognizable as a Killer. Robin glowered up, snaking his hand into his robe and brushing against his tome.

However, he was quickly shown why the rider was smirking.

The impact of the hand axe made the Wyvern shielding him snap around with a low growl. It hissed and cracked its tail back, the appendage sweeping under Robin's feet to trip him before grasping him in a bind and chucking him back. Robin twisted ungracefully through the air, mentally cursing at the rider. _Smarmy son of a-_

The grandmaster smacked against the ground hard. Tome already unclipped from its holster, it slid out and skidded away, taunting Robin with each extra inch. He cursed roughly, accidentally biting a mouthful of dirty grass, but a larger problem reared its head when a now-familiar screech crashed down on him, and claws pounded the ground on both sides.

"Hello, there." The tattooed rider leered at the small man below him and swung his axe. The tactician didn't think as he brought his sword up to block the slower strike of the Killer axe, clearly aimed at his jugular. Sparks flew, and Robin winced and gasped when the full force of the blow strained him.

He brought his other hand up to brace the blade, but the sword slowly began to cut into Robin. Thinking fast, he turned it so that the blunt end was blocking. However, even then the softer metal slowly bent to the harder steel of the weapon and rider.

Robin closed his eyes. _Alright… Problem: there is a _gods-damned axe to my throat. _Solution: Get axe away. Try tilting sword to let the other weapon to slide off-_

A whistling cut through the air, and the pressure lifted from Robin's throat. He opened his eyes to see the rider dodge a wicked javelin toss, and looked up as the rider turned.

But while the rider's eyebrows shot up and his wyvern squawked in protest as he tore at the reins, the tactician grinned at a sight for sore eyes.

Galloping forward was a girl with red hair, spiky points slightly downwards as the rider yelled. The wyvern launched itself just in time to miss the sword slash sweeping above Robin's head. Growling at the sky, the woman swiped her sword again in frustration as the beast wheeled around to snarl at the threat on the ground.

"Damn," she spat upwards, before turning her gaze down. "Hey, stranger. Sorry we didn't get here sooner, but-"

She froze when she actually focused on the man still lying below her, and he couldn't help but grin up at her. "Hey-a, Sully!" Robin said with a jaunty wave. "Nice day for a fight, right?"

The distant cry of a scaly animal re-caught his attention. "Sorry," he said, getting up, "Guess it's go time. We'll talk later!" Unable to sheath his bent sword, he tossed it aside and bolted towards his thunder tome, still lying innocently in the field. He snatched it up and crouched, pointing his finger up while an incantation passed his lips. Fingers tingling with energy, he followed the arcs and sweeps of the wyverns with a stiff hand. One stalled, and he involuntarily smirked as he fired.

The bolt followed his trajectory with a slight arc, making heavy contact with one of the two remaining airborne riders. The man rocketed out of his saddle with a scream, one mimicked by his wyvern as it dove after him.

The final rider turned to stare down the small speck of a man on the ground. He flicked his wyvern's reins to begin a dive… but, in his focus, he'd forgotten about the other fighter on the field. A javelin kindly reminded him of that when it found a chink in his beast's armor, sinking in with a slick _chunk!_

The wyvern wailed as its wings locked up, and rider and animal tumbled from the stratosphere. Holding on for dear life, the man could do nothing as his creature slowed their descent to the fields below, shrieking when its motions caused the lance to dig in deeper. They smashed into the ground at a horrendous angle, the man tumbling free of the bridle and sliding to a halt several meters away.

He immediately looked up, scanning with blurred eyes for his steed. It moaned, and his head snapped over. "Titania!" Shaking, he stumbled forwards, reaching out for her, but was rudely tossed forward by a crackling force. He collapsed over his partner, who groaned at the extra weight, blood trickling out of her injury. A heavy glare settled upon the offending tactician as the man turned to look at him. "You bastard…"

His stare shifted off to the side, and he made an odd gesture with his fingers. "Don't get cocky yet! _Now!" _he bellowed.

The wingmen were all down, but none were out. So after they'd woken up, it was an effective strategy to call on them to swarm their opposition in a blitz.

Or, rather, it _would _have been an effective strategy if Robin hadn't already expected it. And if there really _were _only two people fighting the riders.

The riders dashed forward, some on their mounts, some not. But none expected the arrival of reinforcements as a Shepherd-led scouting party exploded onto the scene. The tactician turned on a heel and blasted a rider-less knight away, just as a brown haired knight thundered by and sliced, the heavy edge of an armourslayer concussing the knight into unconsciousness.

Another rider screamed when the hand holding his reins was pierced with an arrow, and an axe slammed onto his shoulder, dropping the man and stunning the wyvern. A different, recognizable wyvern swooped in, carrying a pink-haired beauty and an archer in spotless clothes. It let the woman snatch her axe, while the man fired an arrow into the opposing animal, before taking off again.

The final rushing rider nearly made it to Sully, but a javelin suddenly sprouted from his chest, a fact he noticed with a gurgle. A pegasus swept down and touched the ground with grace, its brown-haired rider pulling the lance free with a grimace when blood spurted out. She tightened her grip on the reins when a blue-haired man leapt off, booting the falling Plegian in the face before he landed.

The tattooed man hadn't charged. After seeing his comrades pummeled, he stalked back to his injured partner and pulled a lance from a holster on the animal's side. He entered a low stance with a turn, keeping the twin-tipped edge of his Beast Killer high.

Beast Killer?

Oh, _shit!_

"Chrom!" Robin yelled, causing the blue-haired man to turn. "Get over here, _now!_"

Most of the group hadn't paid attention to Robin, their focus being solely on the attacking group of riders. But just like Sully, when Chrom turned to Robin, a look of total dumbfounded confusion spread over his face.

The tactician almost groaned. _Not now, Chrom!_

Then the tattooed man heaved forward, aim directed at the distracted redhead paladin, and the Exalt shook out of his _duh _moment. He sprinted to intercept (and _damn_, had Chrom gotten faster since the last time Robin saw him), drawing Exalted Falchion in an orange blaze to hold it low and ready, accidentally slicing the grass below as he went.

Meanwhile, Robin primed his fingers for another _thunder_, and yelled again. "Sully! _Look out!_"

The woman turned from her work securing the unconscious (dead?) bandits, and cursed when as she saw the man approach. Whipping out her weapon, she got into a defensive stance as both sides of the battle roared.

Fortunately, the high sides of the wyvern rider's mask prevented some peripheral vision, and he was totally blindsided when a broad-shouldered lord collided into him.

Despite the disadvantage of a sword vs. lance fight, Chrom's surprise attack was incredibly effective. He slashed off the weapon's tip and cut through the metal plating of the rider's chest plate, sending the man backwards with a wince. This put him right in Robin's range.

Speaking low, the grandmaster raised his hand and snapped the book shut with the other. Just as the buildup of energy became unbearable, he let it loose with a yell.

"_Here's _how it's done!"

That shout completely slackened Chrom's jaw, but Robin put that tidbit to the back of his mind as the bolt flew. It exploded as it landed, charges of electricity flickering outward as the rider collapsed to the ground in a heap.

Robin blew out a sigh and closed his eyes, slowly re-holstering his tome and reminding himself to remove the used pages later. He heard the sounds of cavalry surrounding him, and a small smile crossed his lips as he looked up.

He wasn't expecting the sight that greeted him.

The Shepherd recon group had surrounded him, all right. But it wasn't in a friendly manner. Their weapons were still unsheathed as they lined up in a semicircular formation, one meant for dealing with an uncertain variable in the battlefield. _He _had taught them that.

"…Guys? Is something wrong?" he asked, hand unconsciously flipping back to touch his tome.

A brown-haired knight, glaring at him, took a step forward to say something, but Sully beat him to the punch. "You knew my name."

Robin quirked an eyebrow at her. "Uh, yeah?"

"How?"

Leave it to the redheaded terror to cut to the heart of the matter. Although the statement left Robin's emotions in a serious state (uneasiness, fear, _panic_), he forced himself to calm down. "How…?" he repeated. "Sully, I _know _you."

"Funny, 'cuz I dunno who the hell _you _are."

"Indeed," cut in a more dignified (if not less sharp) voice. Robin turned towards the brown-haired man as he continued. "Could you tell us who you are? And why you are dressed in the robes of a Plegian Hierophant?"

Robin stared at them as the knight confirmed what Robin had inferred from the paladin.

They didn't know who he was.

_They didn't know him_.

Robin's mind whirled with questions, the predominant one being… why?

The grandmaster's eyes flicked from Frederick to all over the Shepherds, drinking in details until he was fit to burst. _Sully all alone, possibly favoring the lance. Frederick still riding his horse. Cherche and Virion standing close together. Chrom leaning on his sword from the right. And Sumia leaning back._

None of those details were particularly noteworthy… except they were _all different _from the habits of the Shepherds that _he'd _known. And who knew, maybe their habits had changed in the who-knows-how-many-years since he had killed Grima. But those changes combined with how they were all staring at him with varying levels of wariness…

"Well, stranger?" Robin looked back to Frederick, who'd let some steel slip into his tone. "Do you have an answer? Or do you have amnesia?"

Robin would've quirked a smile at Chrom's exasperated groan if the situation had been any different. "No to amnesia," he finally replied. "I know my name."

"And that is?"

"…Robin."

There was a beat of stunned silence. Then, a snort. "Sorry, buddy," Sully said with a raised eyebrow and smirk, "You mean to say your name's the same as the Grandmaster of Ylisse?"

"Ye- huh?" Robin blurted. "There's a Grandmaster of Ylisse?!"

"You sure you don't have amnesia?" the blue-haired lord looked at him with bemusement. "This seems awfully familiar to another case that I know of."

"…Yeah, I'm sure. But this Grandmaster… his name's Robin too?"

"Er, no," Chrom said. "_Her _name. She's my wife."

The grey-haired man blinked once. Then twice. "Your… wife?"

"Yeah," Chrom repeated, "My wife. …It was pretty big international news, I'm surprised you missed it."

"_If _he missed it," Frederick interjected. "This still seems all rather odd. A little _too _odd for my liking."

Robin couldn't have agreed more. "…Alright, wait. I assume that you're going to take me back to Ylisse until you determine I'm not a threat, right?"

Chrom and Frederick gave Robin another strange look. "Yeah," Chrom answered. "Why?"

"Do you know someone named Anna?"

Chrom chuckled. "No. I know _dozens _of people named Anna."

"That's fine. Could you take me to one of them?"

"Perhaps," Frederick cut in. "Could you tell us _why _you need to see one of the Merchant sisters?"

Robin turned to meet the narrowed eyes of the knight. "Well, if my theory's correct…" he looked back to Chrom. "…Because she's my sister in law."

* * *

Several hundred meters away, an ancient tree was splattered red. At the base lay a mass of fleece, its fluffy white stained deep maroon. Sharp growls murmured nearby, alerting some smaller animals to the presence of a wolf, dark gunk staining its feral grin. It raised its leg and urinated on the tall oak, marking its territory, but showing no notice of the gruesome tangle of limbs beneath it.

It looked up at the sound of a wyvern's screech, rolling over the grassland and rebounding off the neighboring tree line. Several moments of silence followed, and, determining there was no threat, the predator bounded through the forest entrance. Finding a small, dried up creek bed, it padded around in a small circle and lay down, running its tongue over sticky teeth as it settled in for a nap; out of sight, and out of mind.

* * *

**AN: Hey everybody, how's it going? Welcome to ****Outlands!**

**This was an idea that I had a while ago now, with the basic premise being: What if, at the end of ****Awakening****, the Robins who chose the "Kill Grima" path (as opposed to the "Put Grima back to sleep" path) didn't wake up back in **_**their **_**universe… but instead, was put in the universe of a whole other Robin? And what if these universes were connected via the Outrealm gate, and the lands that lie within it?**

**Of course, the idea spiraled out of control from there, and it eventually evolved into whatever you're reading now. And now that you **_**have**_** read it… Did you like it? Did you hate it? Or was it just boring? If you have the time, I'd really appreciate a review or PM telling me what you thought of the story/idea, and/or what you think I can improve on in the future (and what you liked, of course!).**

**Alright, that's all I've got for you today. (Except for a quick shout out to anyone who found this fic from reading ****Lateral****, you guys are **_**awesome!**_**) Thanks for reading everyone, and see you next update!**


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

A lone figure made his way through the busy Ylissean marketplace, passing vendors yelling about fantastic prices, fortunetellers beckoning customers with gnarled fingers, and street entertainers juggling… well, _anything _flammable. His armor clanked behind him in storage as he bobbed and weaved through the oblivious crowd, breastplate digging into his back through its cloth sack. A light tug adjusted it to a better position.

Towering above the masses, the brunet swept his eyes around, looking for a messy red ponytail. He huffed a little (just as much as he would let himself) when he couldn't find his target. If only she wouldn't move her stall around so much…

He continued onwards, but stopped a few steps later when a small child approached him, arms held up in a begging motion. He took a moment to look at the tangled hair framing her dirty face, and reached behind himself to grab some gold from his pouch. Yet instead of reaching for some gold, he gently grabbed the arm of a boy approaching from behind, one hand reaching for the man's pouch. He tutted at the duo's horrified faces, lightly wagging a finger at them, before a piece of gold fell into each of their hands. The two's awed faces were mostly missed as the man moved forwards.

Arriving at another empty stand with a sign posted in its middle (_Property of ANNA. Talk to me about rent!_), he hummed. He couldn't really blame her for not being at this space, under an overhang and out of the way of the crowds, on such a sunny day. So if _this _spot wasn't taken, that left…

His head tilted as he sighed. He'd been hoping to avoid going there…

Turning slowly to ensure he knocked nothing over with his bag, he left the alleyway and reentered the flow of the civilians, all rushing downstream. The tall man let the current take him to an all-too-familiar area outside the castle front: the barracks.

The barracks were tucked away in a corner of the castle where it lay between the Commoners' area and the Royals' quarters on the other side of the wall, so it wasn't too imposing for anyone wishing to meet with a Shepherd. Those were the conditions the current Exalt Chrom had laid out when the Shepherds' quarters were built several years ago, and it was something many respected him for (with a few notable, noble exceptions).

But often ignored by Ylisse's resident special operations unit was the square patch of land just next to the door, manned by an enthusiastic redhead. Maybe "ignored" was the wrong word; everyone always waved or said hello to the shop owner as they passed by or entered the barracks. However, few actually thought of it as a stand for _buying _things, let alone a place where they could get the best prices the bold merchant would allow.

One exception was the small boy currently at the stand. His face was screwed up in concentration as he looked between the sale percentage pasted on the wall and the price written down for him, his large hat wobbling with each movement. He eventually nodded, slowly, and laid out exact change on the table, entering the barracks with a proud smile covering his face and a thick, dusty book in his hands. Though, judging by the counter-girl's wicked smirk after his departure, he'd been quite successfully conned.

The brunet had approached the booth from the side during this exchange, edging far around the boy until he was nearly side-by-side with the merchant girl when the boy completed his purchase. "What did Ricken do to you?" he asked in a soft tenor.

As usual, Anna started. But unlike most others, she took it in stride, turning to him with a big smile. "Oh, nothing much. But a fool and his money are soon parted, y' know?"

He raised an eyebrow, and she shrugged, completely unrepentant. "Hey, it's hardly _my _fault no one can count higher than 200 gold around here." She refocused and cheerfully appraised him. "But, whatever. What can I do for-"

Her gaze finally landed on the cloth sack of armor behind his back, and her red eyes widened. "Hold it… Kellam, are you…? You're going to look for her?"

Kellam tilted his head up, still slightly smiling.

Anna stared at him another few seconds, then opened up her counter with a _clack _to let him through. "Alright. Then you'd better come to the back."

He entered and stood behind Anna while she put up a '_Be back soon!' s_ign, then followed her through the shop. A few moments later, she stopped next to a chest hidden away in a back corner. "I can't believe you're actually doing this," she muttered, kneeling and fumbling with her keys. "I still kinda thought you were joking, even after you asked me to go through the prep work."

"I wouldn't joke about something like this."

She threw him a vaguely exasperated look. "Honestly? I still dunno _what _you'd joke about. You were the last person I'd expect to talk about Gangrel's underwear and a brothel, but there you were, at a _banquet dinner _no less…"

He chuckled at the memory. "I think you were the only one who heard it, though."

"Thank Naga for that. I doubt the others would've survived their surprise."

Kellam laughed again as Anna finally opened the chest with a _click. _She rummaged through the large bin, rustling and clanking coming from within, before she let out a cry of victory and popped back up.

"Got it!" she cried, waving an old, rolled up parchment above her head. She moved to the table and unrolled the parchment, revealing it as…

"A map?" Kellam looked at the merchant with raised eyebrows. "You actually did it?"

"Well, _I_ didn't do it. This is a really old map. Like, _really _old. Before Old Hubba old."

"Impossible."

Anna grinned. "Probably. But point is, this thing is _ancient_. I'm almost doing you a disservice giving you a map this old. The Outlands are always changing, so this thing is gonna be next to useless." She furrowed her brows. "…I'm actually kinda wondering if you should take it at all…"

"As long as the topography's the same, it'll be very useful."

"Yeah, forests will still have trees and whatnot. But you'll need an updated map for the gates."

Kellam cocked his head. "I thought it was impossible to be totally updated. Aren't new universes born all the time?"

Anna grimaced. "Yeah. And new gates pop up as entryways for those universes, sometimes depending on what happens _in other _universes. But that's why you really need a more recent map." The merchant fully turned to the lancer. "…I hate to say it, but the chances of finding Robin in the Outlands are next to zero. The few rumors I've heard from my sisters all say that _those _Robins showed up inside one of the gates."

"But it's been two years since Grima's fall."

The redhead shook her head. "Nobody knows _when _the Robins reappear. Sure, maybe she appeared a while ago and is out looking for us now. But it's just as likely that she hasn't even…"

She looked down, not completing her sentence.

"It's alright." A hand fell on her shoulder, and she flicked her eyes up. "That's a chance I'm willing to take."

"…Yeah. I know."

They stayed like that for a few moments, before Anna shrugged the hand off and reattached the smile to her face. "Well, map issues aside, you're gonna need something aside from armor to protect yourself."

Kellam hummed in agreement. The redhead shuffled through the back of the shop, muttering inanities, while the man carefully rolled the map up and put it in the side of his armor sack. As he retied it shut, Anna returned with a pale white lance.

Kellam's eyes widened. "Anna, isn't this…?"

The girl handed the weapon over. "Yup, it's a _luna. _One of the few we've got left."

The brunet gazed at it with raised eyebrows, examining its wide tip and extended blade on one edge, clearly meant to rake through armor. "Anna-"

"If you say you 'can't accept it,'" she warned, emphasizing with air quotes, "Or some other bullcrap, I'll throw you out right now."

The brunet exhaled, lips curved upwards. "Then I suppose I can't say no, can I?"

"Nope. You're one of my best friends, and you're _not _going to the freakin' Outlands with anything less than the best."

"How much do I owe you, then?"

"Nothing for now. Hey, _knock it off_, I'm feeling fine!" the merchant protested when Kellam tried to check her temperature.

"You can hardly blame me. That was not something I'd expect you to say."

"I said nothing _for now!_" she huffed. "You'll be paying me all right, w_ith interest_, too." Anna looked up into Kellam's eyes, an unusually serious expression on her face. "You're gonna pay me _everything_ the day you come back home with Robin."

The brunet blinked, then nodded with a smile. "I will."

"…I know."

Kellam took a breath, about to say something, but Anna couldn't help herself. "Are you leaving now? Like, _now _now?"

"That's the plan." He cocked his head. "Why?"

"Well… uh, what about your kid? He or she never showed up, so what happens if he does?"

"I'll trust you to handle him. Or her."

"Then, what about…"

Anna fumbled for a proper response. But after a few seconds, she sighed and slumped, leaning on a post supporting her tent. "…You've gotta go now, huh?"

Kellam looked to the side and slowly ran a hand through his hair. "…It's been long enough. I told her I'd look after two years, and the second anniversary of Grima's defeat was three weeks ago now."

Red eyes cut to brown ones. "If I recall correctly," Anna said drily, "she forbade you from doing that."

"You're the one helping me," Kellam countered, "And I forbade her from killing herself. So, I'd say we're even."

The redhead stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed, then shook her head and chuckled. "Jeez… 'I'd say we're even?' That was _such _a Robin thing to say."

Kellam smiled, wistfully. "…Yeah."

The merchant studied him for a moment, then leaned away from the support, standing up straight. "Are you at least gonna say 'bye' to the others?"

"Why?"

Anna winced. "…Maybe Chrom would send some people to help you?"

The lancer just shook his head. "No, he wouldn't. It's quite clear what he thinks of her fate."

"They all know she could come back. They _want _her to come back."

"They want their _tactician _to come back." Kellam's eyes narrowed as he let some Robin-esque coldness freeze his words. "That was what he said. At her _memorial service_."

"…I don't think that's what he meant, Kellam," Anna replied quietly.

"Perhaps. But can you deny how they acted when she _was _here?"

The merchant bit her lip and looked away.

Kellam just sighed in response. "I know you're close to them, Anna… but Robin never was. And neither was I."

"…They'll miss you once you're gone, y' know."

"Once they _realize _I'm gone."

A noise came from the back of Anna's throat, half laugh and half choke, as her eyes glued themselves to the ground.

"Hey." A large pair of arms wrapped around her, and she looked up in surprise. "It'll be alright. Just hold on until we come back."

After a breath, much smaller arms wrapped around Kellam, barely making it all the way across the man's frame. "Ok," she whispered, pulling away slowly. "But you'd better come back soon, okay?"

"I will."

"And tell the other Annas how you're doing so they can let me know."

"Will do."

"And get a backpack from one of the other Annas, you'll probably need it."

"Okay."

"And-"

"_Anna._"

The girl paused at the comment, realizing that she'd started pacing back and forth through her tent, ticking off her thoughts on her fingers. She sheepishly met the man's bemused eyes. "You know I'm just worried for you." Her eyes slanted as she looked away, casting around her tent. "…Naga, for once, I _really _wish I could just leave…"

"You know you can't do that. You need to stay here, with your sisters."

The merchant huffed. "I don't _wanna, _though. There should be a clause in the Anna manifesto about leaving your position to help your best friend find his wife…"

"'Anna manifesto?'"

"I said nothing like that. Now shoo!" she said, pushing him out of the tent (though making sure he had all his belongings), "Before I change my mind and follow you."

Once outside, Kellam turned, his new lance leaning on his shoulder. "Thank you, Anna," he said, words barely audible over the din of the castle market. "For everything."

Anna leaned forward on her counter and swallowed. "Don't say that like a goodbye, damn you," she ordered, voice slightly shaking. "Just come back with her. I need my two best friends together again, okay? So don't let me down now."

"When have I ever?" Kellam dipped his lance and head forward a little. A farewell. "I'll see you soon, Anna."

"…I'm counting on it."

The lancer smiled one last time for the redhead. Then he bent over, picked up his armor-sack, and slowly walked away at his usual meandering pace. Anna watched his movements, with his head bobbing far above the rest of the crowd, until the distance and rabble surrounding him blurred his form and he disappeared.

The girl let out a stuttering breath, and wiped an arm across her eyes before removing the '_Be back soon!' _sign from her shop's counter.

Then, she smiled. For the customers.

* * *

The lancer had barely made it a mile past the wide doors of the Ylissean castle gates when he realized he wasn't quite alone.

The forest he was traveling through was a vibrant green, with the sunlight filtering through the translucent leaves and painting the forest floor a similar color. Sounds of insects chirping, the rustle of branches high above, and crunches of dry leaves underfoot only made the ambiance more peaceful.

However, Kellam noted, there weren't many noises from his left side.

The woodland path he was following soon opened up into a clearing, where sunlight previously held back by the trees' numerous arms flooded the area, blindingly bright. Kellam shifted his grip on his lance as he entered, squinting.

A rough rustle came from his left. Kellam spun, dropping his armor sack and whipping his new lance back, accidentally scraping the dirt path. Glancing through the sunlight, Kellam saw a blurred figure leap forward, something glinting in his hand as he reached the peak of his leap. The _luna _lance in Kellam's hands flipped into a defensive position, held horizontally in both hands, as the man braced for impact.

Unnecessarily.

The figure (now almost certainly identifiable as a thief) suddenly dropped from the air, letting out a shocked cry as he slammed against the ground. Kellam blinked. The offender had an axe sticking out of his back in a surely uncomfortable position, blood leaking out of the wound as he groaned. The thief turned his head over and made eye contact with Kellam, briefly, before a large shadow cast across his body. He shrieked one last time before a snarling wyvern crashed onto him.

A _very familiar_ wyvern.

She tilted her head down, about to bite into the man coloring her talons red, but her rider rapped the side of her head, shaking his head when she looked up at him. Then, ever so slowly, the rider turned the reigns to the side so he and his wyvern faced Kellam.

The two (_three_, really) stared at each other. A long silence extended far into the distance as Kellam took in the youth's slicked back, light blue hair, lanky limbs hanging off his wyvern, and the scratched up mask hiding his eyes.

He decided to break the silence first. "Thank you. You really saved me back there."

The boy was silent for another moment, then grunted. "You could've handled him."

"But I didn't; you did. So, thanks." Kellam sent a small smile in his direction; one that was promptly ignored as the boy sharply glanced away.

The brunet waited for a reply, but none was forthcoming. So, "…Well. I'll be moving on then."

"Where are you going?"

Kellam stopped walking again, turning back to the wyvern rider. "…What do you mean?"

"You're walking away from Ylisse castle. Your home."

"How do you know it's my home?"

"You're a Shepherd. I don't need to watch you to know where you live."

"But most people don't know that I'm a Shepherd." Kellam raised an eyebrow. "Logic dictates you must have been paying special attention to me."

"…Feh," the boy quickly exhaled, almost spitting, as he again turned and hid his face from the lancer.

Although watching his embarrassment with quiet amusement, Kellam took pity on him. "Any reason you wish to know?"

The wyvern rider didn't turn back to reply. "…I wish to follow you."

The lancer blinked. "Won't you have family who would miss you? Or friends?"

"Neither are issues."

Kellam glanced up at the boy's hair color, and then down at his all-too-recognizable wyvern, sniffing the ground. An unlikely combination… in _this _universe.

He nodded once. "If you say so, then I'll trust you."

"Just like that?" The masked boy turned back, voice sharp as a wyvern's fang. "What if I was trying to kill you? Or steal from you? Or lead you into a trap?"

"If you wanted to kill me, you wouldn't have saved me. If you wanted to steal from me, you would've let the thief kill me before killing him. And telling me about the possibility of a trap leads me to believe you wouldn't do that, either. Unless, of course, you were being forced to trap me. But your strength suggests that it's unlikely you'd be trapped like that, and your lack of emotion regarding your family or friends suggests it's unlikely they are being used as leverage. So, yes," Kellam finished, watching the boy's surprised visage with quiet humor, "I'll trust you. Just like that."

"Maybe you shouldn't be so trusting," the boy muttered.

"No reason not to. It's just logic." The brunet hoisted his lance into a traveling position, placing its midsection on his shoulder and over his armor sack. "Now, can I ask why you'd like to follow me?"

"…I have my reasons."

His response was nearly inaudible. The taller man snuck a backwards glance at the boy, whose hands and teeth were clenched tight as he collected his tomahawk.

Kellam focused forwards again. "Alright," he accepted, looking up and to the left as wyvern and rider moved to his side. The lancer opened his mouth, and, after a hesitation, asked, "…What's your name?"

"Gerome. …She's Minerva."

"I knew that one."

"…Of course," Gerome muttered to the trees.

Kellam suppressed a smile as he moved forwards, followed after a moment by Minerva's steps, trembling the ground and ripping up the earth. As they reached the edge of the clearing, the dark foliage surrounding the trail swallowed them whole, leaving only the broken body of a thief behind.

* * *

**AN: For anyone confused: this chapter takes place in a different universe than last chapter.**

**Shout outs to: _pokemon-dot-rhoades_, _lambyisamazing_, _NotSoGreatGamerGirl_, _BalancedHex1232_, and _E-Parasite_ for following; _NotSoGreatGamerGirl_ and _BalancedHex1232_ for faving; and _Gunlord500_ and _E-Parasite_ for reviewing!**

****(Also, special shout out to _E-Parasite_ for reminding me what the heck Flora and Fauna mean.)**  
**

**So, I've always accepted how Robin is usually portrayed as a super-social guy/gal who helps everyone out. And that's probably how he/she's supposed to be, honestly. But it's interesting to think that you (and thus Robin) can go through the whole game **_**without **_**leveling up a single support rank. That's basically the idea for ****this ****chapter/universe's Robin.  
**

**Alright, that's all I've got for now. Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next update!**


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

It was sunny outside.

* * *

"_Morgan, you have to run!"_

"_F-Father…?!"_

"_You're not strong enough, Morgan! None of us are! You need to get out of here, now!"_

* * *

A young, blue-haired girl in a heavy purple coat sat wide-eyed in an empty field, staring forward as the lone cloud in the sky slid towards the sun.

* * *

"_Oh, Naga… Naga, so many dead…! Gods, how is it possible…?!"_

"_He's using dark magic! He's not abiding by the natural order of things!"_

* * *

…It seemed cruel, the girl (_Morgan_, _her name was Morgan_) thought.

* * *

"_Brady, use your Warp staff on Morgan! She's just a liability right now, please get her out of here!"_

"_Aw, shit… Aw, shit…!"_

"_Brady, please!"_

* * *

Everyone else had been fighting…

* * *

"_What…!? Boss! Something about these damned Ruins of Time are screwin' with the staff! I dunno where it'll take 'er!"_

"_It doesn't matter!"_

"_But-!"_

"_DO IT!"_

* * *

…And here was Morgan, uselessly sitting in a sprawling plain.

* * *

"_Gods, how can one man be so strong?!"_

"_Focus, Lucina, focus-! GAAAH!"_

"_Robin?! No… No!"_

"_Lucina… You need to…!"_

"_No, no, no! Robin, stay with me, stay with-!"_

* * *

And thus, one of Morgan's first memories was watching her parents disintegrate as that man Brady warped her away.

Away from her parents. Her friends. Her family.

The ones who she had just met a moment before.

She bent over forwards, touching her forehead to the ground as she tried to process everything. Her breaths accelerated.

In the back of her mind, a voice pointed out how silly it was that she in such a state over people she'd known for just a few minutes. Just long enough to learn how she probably came from another universe. Just long enough to learn that her "Father" wasn't Father, and her "Mother" wasn't Mother.

But she knew they were more. They were so much more.

They _were _more.

Bile rose in Morgan's throat, but she forced it down with a dry swallow. Now… Now wasn't the time for this.

What would F-_Father_ do…?

_[No matter the situation, Morgan, always look at your surroundings first. A battle can be won before it begins by choosing the right place.]_

Okay, looking. Morgan could handle that.

She stood up slowly, mechanically brushing her deep blue locks out of the way of her eyes as she absorbed her surroundings.

The prairie surrounding her really was immense. Wind blew through the tall grasses, sweeping up and down the rolling hills and gently rattling the branches of a proud, lone tree at the top of a hill a thousand or so meters away. The sun beat down on Morgan, making her coat feel even more stifling than usual. She let herself unbutton its golden top clasp.

Turning to get a panoramic view, she visibly started when she noticed a massive sea, previously hidden behind her. She could see a ship far in the distance, a large, triple-masted battleship heading away from shore to… somewhere.

But even more surprising was the massive temple in the foreground. A familiar one… the very one she had just been warped out of.

Her eyes narrowed. If that was the temple… then where was the damage? Where was the evidence of a fight?

And_ where was that man?_

She stumbled forwards, almost in a trance, towards the looming wreck. If one looked _really _hard, it was possible to see the outlines of what had once been something great, something grand and powerful and majestic. Yet now, all there was to show for it was crumbling pillars and fading blue paint.

Unfortunately, those were the effects of time, not a dangerous battle.

So… was this really the same place? Brady said he wasn't sure where she'd be taken. Had she been sent to yet another…?

The entrance rose ominously above Morgan. She stood there at its gaping mouth, hesitating, and swallowed once… _twice_, before she stepped into the temple's interior.

_Tap, tap, tap _echoed Morgan's footsteps as she entered. Light from the deep pools of water reflected the sun peeking in from the chunk taken out of the roof, flashing on Morgan and highlighting the girl's expression.

Dilated pupils. Shaking knees. Rapidly rising and falling chest.

No one was here… which she probably should have guessed. From Brady's comment and from what Morgan's parents had told her, it was likely that these ruins were somehow linked to other dimensions. And if she was standing here, in the same building as that battle, no more than five minutes later... where were the remnants of a fight? There was no misplaced gear, no bodies, and not even a sign that the temple had been disturbed in years.

The girl's knees gave out, dropping her to the floor. To be honest, she'd held onto hope that, somehow, her family would be here. Maybe she'd imagined the whole thing, or maybe they'd all be injured, but… they'd be _here_. Not leaving her alone. Not gone.

Not dead_._

The first sob tore itself from her throat unwilled, battering down the barrier for the others to follow. One after another, miserable cries escaped from her mouth as she tilted over sideways. The blue-haired girl wrapped her arms around herself, clenching her coat's light shoulder pads as tears slipped by the defenses of her tightly shut eyelids and tracing a path down her cheeks, splattering on the cold floor of the empty, empty room.

Morgan wasn't sure how much time had passed when she was finally numb enough to stop wailing. She quietly lowered her hands to her waist, though they remained stiffly fisted from too much time held in a white-knuckled position.

…So, now what?

It was a good question. Good enough for Morgan to ponder it half-heartedly while staring at a wall with half-closed eyes, and consider her other options, running a finger over the worn handle of her sheathed sword.

Morgan was an optimist, but she wasn't stupid. They were dead. They were all dead. No one could be resuscitated from a full death, and especially not from a massive blast of Goetia. You can't save smoke.

The girl's shoulder-length bangs parted as she looked up at the hole in the ceiling, eyes still half-lidded. _Was _there a reason to keep going? What could she do…?

_C'mon, Morgan,_ _think. This is a big opportunity. …R-right? Nothing tying you down… Nothing to stop you from doing… doing…_

Doing what, exactly? What did she want to do? What could she do that no one else could?

_Tactician, _her mind helpfully supplied. Yeah, right. Like she could be a good tactician with an army of zero.

(Her deadened mind thankfully softened the impact of that thought.)

However… she was more than a tactician, wasn't she?

_[A good tactician leads from the front, Morgan. To lead well, you have to see the battle through the eyes of a common soldier as well as a tactician.]_

Yeah… that's right.

_[That's why a good tactician must also be a soldier.]_

She was a soldier, too. They killed.

And it wasn't hard to think of someone who needed to die.

_[Never kill without a reason and intent to kill. When you end a life, it must be deliberate, planned, and above all else, justified.]_

She could have laughed. Deliberate? Hell yeah. Plans? She'd get those done. And justification?

Oh, please_._

Who knew how much more damage that man could do? If he could destroy her family like that, he could take down anything.

But he couldn't foresee the actions of a girl he thought he'd killed.

After all, what did Father say?

_[Be wary of those who have nothing left to lose. They are the ones that will stop at nothing to carry out their justice.]_

_Yeah_, Morgan thought as she lowered her head, her drooping bangs covering her eyes while a smirk morphed her face. _That sounds about right._

* * *

A merry humming sprung through the air. The tune bounced and lilted across the fields, reaching its crescendo just as a redheaded woman carrying an impossibly large backpack reached the top of the hill. She quit her song to let out a grand sigh, leaning on the aged trunk of a tree planted on its peak, while her maroon cape trailed down and tickled the back of her legs where her boots had ripped through her matching red pants.

Then, she checked the horizon and promptly pouted.

"Aw, come on," she groaned, staring at the ship disappearing into the horizon and ignoring the old temple just below the hill. "I was just an hour or five late! What's a girl gotta do for a ride around here?"

A minute or two was spent glaring at the ship, trying to drag it back by sheer willpower, before she slumped and ran a hand over her face. _Well… That's that, I guess._

The woman knelt, absently scratching her yellow and red shirt, and dropped her pack to rummage through it. She eventually extracted a canteen, popped its top off and raised it up…

…Until she saw a small girl exit the Ruins of Time. Her jaw dropped right on cue.

"Morgan?!" She stood abruptly, accidentally dropping the canteen to the earth. "Here…? Wait, what on earth…?"

While the older woman stood with her jaw agape, the girl far below turned and peered up at her new companion. Apparently, the woman wasn't too interesting, as the girl began trudging away after a brief moment of eye contact.

The woman's red eyes narrowed. No one ignores an Anna! Not even a Morgan!

"Oi!" Anna yelled, waving her arms. But the blue-haired girl didn't even acknowledge the other's existence.

Strike two!

The redhead snatched her pack up, tossing her now-empty canteen (whoops) into it. Dashing down the hill precariously, she swung her merchandise onto one shoulder, struggling to get her arm through the bag's other loop.

"You can't run from me! Get back here, Morgan!"

To her credit, when Morgan actually heard her name, she did stop and turn. And to Anna's credit, she tried not to gasp when she slowed her pace and saw the dull slackness of Morgan's expression.

"U-uh, Morgan? What's up, kiddo?"

"…Sorry, but I'm not who you think I am."

Anna let out a small chuckle. "Nah, I know you pretty well, sweetie." She knelt down and wagged a nonchalant finger at Morgan, as if the younger girl's dim eyes didn't frighten the hell out of her. "And more importantly, I know that anyone with that expression needs someone to talk to."

Morgan's eyes drifted away from Anna. "There's not much to say."

"Hmm… Not sure I buy that idea. If you've got thoughts, you've got words."

"Really?" The blue-haired girl turned back to the redhead, eyes narrowed. "What if all I thought was something no one would believe?"

"What, like you came from another dimension?"

Morgan's eyes popped wide open. "H-huh?!"

Anna just laughed. "I'm _very _familiar with the concept of other worlds, Morg. I know you don't remember so I'll tell you now: I'm an Anna. My sisters and I act as wardens of these worlds and the Outlands that connect them. And trust me, I've met a bunch of Morgans like yourself." She reared back up to her full height, crossing her arms and creasing her brow. "But I've never seen a Morgan like you."

The shorter girl was quiet for several seconds, staring at the ground as the wind picked up and gently swayed her hair. "Did the others… lose their family too?"

Anna's eyebrows shot up and hid behind her bangs. "Morgan, you… you remember that?"

Morgan's chuckle was far too dry. "Oh, yeah. How could I forget watching my parents get slaughtered as I was warped away?"

"Warped away…?" Anna breathed.

"Mmm. A guy called Brady used a warp staff. I think he accidentally sent me to another world."

The redhead's mind whirled. No one had known what happened to the Morgans before they were brought to their respective dimensions, but if what she said was true, then-

Wait. This Morgan had blue hair… and she was warped away by Brady? In the Ruins of Time?

The redhead's breath wedged itself in her throat.

"Morgan," she managed to rasp out, "…How did your parents die?"

"There… there was a sorcerer. Used Goetia, black cape, grey hair-?!"

Alarmed, Morgan cut herself off as her companion took a step back and slapped her hands over her mouth.

"Oh gods… oh, no, no, no…" Anna muttered. "That can't… there's no way…"

All the younger girl could do was swallow as the taller woman stared at her, utterly horrified.

Several long moments later, the merchant closed her eyes. "R-right. Morgan… I'm sorry, but I really think you should see the others. The Shepherds."

That didn't go over too well. The blue-haired girl quickly copied her companion's actions, backing up with terrified eyes and waving her hands. "No… no, please don't. Anna, I-I can't. I'm not ready for that."

"Sweetie, please-"

"No!" Morgan's shout was shriller than she'd probably intended, like an animal backed into a corner.

The redhead bit her lip. Naga, this was hard. Obviously the younger girl didn't know _why _she had to meet the others in Ylisse, but Anna couldn't just _say_…

"Morg, please trust me. Just… at the very least, gimme a chance, ok? Even if we went back right now, it'd take about a month of traveling, and that's after finding horses."

At that last comment, Morgan glanced up at the taller woman, eyes sharpening into a much more familiar expression. Seconds ticked by, and the redhead held her breath.

Finally, the smaller girl lightly bobbed her head. "Ok, I'll …I'll trust you. For now, at least."

Anna's shoulders slumped and a bright smile popped onto her face. "Great! Jeez, you had me worried there for a sec…"

She toned down her smile, a more relaxing one taking its place. "Seriously, though, Morg… thank you. You'll understand sometime."

"…It's fine," the girl muttered, turning away. "But please don't call me Morg. That's a pretty awful nickname."

"No kidding!" The grin plastered on Anna's face only widened when the other girl turned with eyebrows raised. "Why do you think I use it?"

Morgan's deadpan was truly something to behold.

"Come on, kiddo!" Anna continued, blithely ignorant. "Let's get a move on!"

"Alright, alright," Morgan sighed. "How far until we can find those horses?"

"It's about a day's walk East. I'm plannin' on going a quarter of the way today, and finish it up tomorrow."

"Only a quarter?"

"Yup. We've gotta set up camp before night falls, other wise it'll be twenty times as hard."

"…I doubt that."

"Well, you don't _know _that either, right?" Anna grinned. "Trust me, it's better to take it slow and plan for the worst instead of charging ahead."

Morgan grimaced. "Trust this, trust that… You're asking me to put an awful lot of faith into someone I've just met."

Silence fell over the pair, and Morgan risked a glance back. A pained expression was smearing Anna's face, and the girl quickly backtracked. "I-I'm sorry, it's just, this is really tough, and I-"

"Gods, Morg, you don't need to justify yourself to me," Anna murmured, catching up with the smaller girl. "_I'm _the one who should apologize, I keep forgetting you…" She sighed and shook her head. "Naga, I could sell a bikini to Grima, but when it come to words of consolation…"

The blue-haired girl tried to chuckle. "It's okay, Anna. Really."

Anna nearly cringed at that. This… just wasn't Morgan. Forced laughs, short sentences, and distrust of people? Naga, that was the _opposite _of everything Morgan stood for.

And Anna had no idea what she could do about it.

But, when in doubt…

"Let's go forward, then!" the redhead turned, facing forward and away from the prying set of much-too-dull eyes. "Nothing's gonna get done by just standing around here, I'll tell you that much!"

Leading the charge, Anna pressed forward, the sun directly at her back as the duo tromped through the undergrowth, and Morgan soon followed suit. Both kept their heads down, with Morgan looking at her feet, and Anna kept a watchful eye on the long shadow of the younger girl bobbing to the redhead's right.

They remained silent, climbing the hill with only the swoosh of the wind and rustle of plants keeping them company until they climbed to the top of a hill and disappeared from view to the other side.

* * *

The campfire was still crackling when Anna woke up the next morning. She drowsily opened her eyes and wiped the drool off her cheek, peeking around the hazy fire pit at the blurry bundle entirely covered by a brown blanket, lying directly opposite to her.

Normally, Morgan would be the first to wake up.

Anna frowned, unraveling the red cape she'd cocooned herself in. Attempting to let the girl sleep in, Anna quietly set about to cleaning camp as the sun rose: rerolling her sleeping pad, covering the smoldering embers with dirt, quirking her eyebrow at the pen and paper that had apparently tumbled out of her backpack, and munching on the non-preservable leftovers from last night.

After about a half an hour, Anna got impatient.

"Hey, Morg, sweetie?" She said, keeping her voice down. "I think it's about time to wake up now."

No response.

"Morg, seriously, if we don't get movin' soon, it'll be lunchtime."

Nothing.

"_Morgan, _I'm pretty sure that's enough-!"

By now, Anna had crossed the camp and shook the girl, only to realize that the "girl" was nothing more than a pile of blankets.

Anna's head jerked back, eyes shooting wide open. _Did she- She didn't-?!_

She ripped the layers of blankets away from the sleeping pad, uselessly searching for the missing girl until the blankets were scattered.

The merchant slapped her hand over her eyes, mentally cursing herself. Of _course _Morgan would be gone! The girl had _trust problems_, and Anna came on _way _too strong! Naga dammit, how could she be so _stupid?!_

She slapped the last blanket she'd torn away in frustration, and a small piece of paper fell away from it and fluttered next to Anna, presenting it's front neatly labeled _Anna. _The redhead snatched it up and flipped it open, nearly tearing it in desperation.

_[Anna-_

_I'm really sorry about this, but I can't go to that "Ylisse" place you were talking about. There's something I need to do, and I can't do it with kind people like you, and especially not with those you care about._

_The man that killed my family can't be allowed to live. And since he's not in this dimension, that means I've got to find another way out of this world and find him. If I asked you to help me, you and everyone would get involved… and my greatest strength is that he's not expecting me, and I have nothing to lose._

_I need to carry out my own justice, and I won't pull you into this._

_Thank you for your words, and your intentions. It really meant the world to me, and I'm glad I met you._

_Stay safe… please don't follow me._

_Mor-]_

Anna couldn't even finish reading the girl's signature before she involuntarily crumpled the message. 'Nothing left to lose'? 'Carry out justice'?! Anna had heard those words before, but…

"_Dammit_, Morgan! That wasn't what Robin meant at all!"

Morgan couldn't kill that man! No one could!

She didn't understand!

That man was…

Anna dashed about the camp, snatching the blankets and stuffing them into her backpack before swinging it onto her back and sprinting in the now-obvious trail left in the tall plants covering the prairie.

"Dammit, Morgan…" Anna growled. "I won't let go of you that easily!"

* * *

**AN: I'M SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT! EXPANATION AFTER SHOUT-OUTS!**

**Shout outs to: **_**Tanokki**_**, **_**Fuuga GF**_**, **_**rotciv557**_**, **_**EtherealRed**_**, and **_**Aoirann**_** for following; **_**Aoirann**_** and **_**Carmine Rogue**_** for faving; and **_**E-Parasite**_** and **_**pokemon-dot-rhoades**_** for reviewing!**

**Ok, the basic explanation is that I'm a lazy prick.**

**The longer explanation is that I always have trouble with intro chapters. For me, writing the basic descriptions of new characters and settings is really hard without it sounding like a list, which is pretty boring.**

**So, you can imagine my troubles with these first few chapters. I'm very excited for this story, but 3 intro chapters? Ugh, that killed me. This one was especially hard because I want Morgan to be out of character, but still have a sort of "core" that's the same (While she doesn't trust people and isn't really social or happy, she still wants to keep people safe).**

**Well, regardless, I have a much better idea of what's gonna happen in the next few chapters, so hopefully they'll be out sooner than this chapter. No promises, though!**

**Again, sorry this chapter took so long to get out… But thank you all so much for reading, and I'll see you in the next update!**


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

"Vaike, are you kiddin' me?"

"What, Sully?! I thought you were gonna _wait _for Teach when you said 'we're leavin'!"

"'We're leaving' means precisely that, Vaike."

"Well, whatever! How'm I supposed ta know that, Freddie?!"

"Frederick. It's _Frederi-"_

"Hey, who's the new guy?!"

"Hi Teach, it's- er, nice to meet you, I guess."

"Heeyyy, lookit that!" The tanned, blonde man grinned and turned away from the grey-haired tactician, facing the rest of the Shepherds. "Teach's teachings have left Ylisse!"

Sully groaned from the other side of Vaike. "Ugh, now look at what you've done. He won't shut his stupid mouth for another freakin' year now."

Robin couldn't help but chuckle, though keeping half his attention on Frederick's all too narrowed eyes. "You kidding? He'll forget within an hour."

"Ha! Yeah that's… uh, that's probably true." And with that, Sully was once again wearing that suspicious look. Robin quickly maneuvered himself in front of her.

The procession they lead on the stone path to the Ylisse common grounds wasn't exactly normal, but by Shepherd standards, Robin supposed it could pass for standard fare. Most of the usual Shepherds lead the line with Robin (and Vaike, who'd come sprinting out the gate as they approached, totally prepared to catch up to the main group who'd left half a day earlier), while a couple others (Chrom and Sumia) stayed in the rear to keep an eye on the still-unconscious prisoners and keep the muzzled wyverns as calm as possible.

The concept of dragging back several (supposed) renegades and _three wyverns _into Ylisse was naturally met with some initial concern. Frederick, as usual, was most vehement, but Chrom was too benevolent to do anything but take them back. "Especially," he had said, tossing an odd look at Robin, "without… er, Robin's advice."

Honestly, Robin was throwing him weird looks too. He wasn't totally sure how to react to hearing his best friend say his name like… _that._

Soon enough, the group arrived at the front gates of Ylisse. Cherche and Virion were entrusted with the prisoners and wyverns to send them to the back entrance to the shepherd's hovel (Which itself had a back door entrance to the dungeons), while the rest of the group proceeded into the hustle and bustle of Ylisse.

It was truly surreal from Robin's perspective. Not only because _'Oh my gods, I'm back in Ylisse', _but also because he wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to find his way around town blindfolded anymore. The Anna shop normally on the left was directly opposite on the right (and empty, sadly), his favorite bakery was nowhere to be seen (instead replaced with a crummy seafood stand), and the trash heap was replaced with an antique shop (apparently, some things never change).

"Something wrong?"

Chrom's guarded tone was another odd thing to hear. "Er, uh, yeah," the gray-haired man stammered, stuffing his nostalgia away as best he could. "It's just a little different than I remember. Was that always a seafood stand?"

The Exalt nodded, absently smiling and waving at a group of commoners. "Mm. Pretty terrible, though."

"Probably 'cause the man's a _baker_," Robin muttered. Chrom's eyebrows rose a degree.

"Yeah? Is that what he is in your world?"

Robin hummed an affirmative, ignoring Frederick's scoff. Everyone knew about his general theory (that he came from another world) because Frederick had all but forced him to explain just how he knew so much about the others. Although few still really believed him (minus Chrom, naturally), they decided it was enough of an explanation to allow him into Ylisse.

He'd refused to explain any more than the basics, though. He wanted backup before he dove into exactly _why _he had teleported there, since he was fairly certain he knew why _he_ had... and _their_ Robin hadn't.

Back in the present: "He's a damn good one, too."

"Maybe I should tell him to try baking…"

"That's not _just _an abuse of authority, that's just weird."

"So… par for the course for me, right?"

"Heh, exactly."

It didn't occur to either of the men that they'd been verbally jousting like old friends until Frederick let out a pointed cough. They both veered away from each other.

The awkward moment was short lived, as a castle guard standing on a battlement of the inner castle shouted a greeting down to the Shepherds. Adopting his friendly business face, Chrom moved to the front, exchanging a few formal words with the guard before he signaled to raise the gates.

As they waited for the gates to open, Robin found himself standing next to Frederick. "I'm not gonna lie," he said quietly. "I kind of thought you were gonna follow the prisoners into the dungeon to make sure they were locked up securely."

The brown-haired knight nodded. "Normally, I would. But I have a bigger concern to worry about."

"…Me, right?"

"Indeed. I do not know if what you say is the truth, but you fight exceedingly like… _our _Robin." The taller man's eyes narrowed and he looked down half a foot to meet the grey-haired tactician's stare. "And if there is one thing I learned from my many wars, it is that a tactician is _always _the one you should watch."

The men held eye contact for a few long seconds until the grinding, creaking moans from old chains holding the gate caught both of their attention. The sounds were a hardly a good sign of their durability, but hearing a gate that _didn't _sound like it was oiled and prepped for a battle was music to Robin's ears.

The group made their way inside, passing the saluting guards (who made Robin just as uncomfortable as he remembered) and following the plush red carpet trailing a line down the hall. Robin squinted as they entered a hall with sunlight pouring in from its many windows, painting the room a bright orange.

One flight of stairs and several maze-like corridors later, the Shepherds (plus Robin) faced a massive, oaken door, with a woman and man's voices filtering through it.

"Well, have you tried _talking to them about it?_"

"W-well, no, not exactly-"

"Then why are you coming to the castle with a request like this?! Go and _talk to your neighbor before coming here! Next!_"

The door opened slightly with a creak that almost covered Chrom's sigh, and a terrified, small-looking man came rushing out. He bowed as soon as he caught sight of the returning shepherds, muttering apologies about something or other, until Chrom's arm on his shoulder made him look up.

"Don't worry about it," he said with a tired smile. "She doesn't really mean all that. She shouldn't be listening to requests in the first place right now."

The man listened hesitantly until Chrom's voice soothed him into relaxing his tense frame. "Thank you, Exalt, I'll keep it in mind!" He still rushed out of the palace, but with a much lighter gait than before.

Robin couldn't help but marvel at that. He'd seen hints at Chrom's easy-going friendliness earlier (and he'd known it personally during the wars), but the Chrom he'd known was a little awkward around people he wasn't familiar with. So this Chrom was either good friends with all these people, or he'd coached himself into being at ease with all his subjects. And honestly, neither was less impressive.

However, the tactician realized with apprehension pooling in his stomach, only the royal family could listen to requests from the townspeople. And since he couldn't see Lucina doing that, then the woman in there must be-

"I said _next! _Come on, who's sending the rest of them in?!"

At that yell, the other shepherds looked at each other with similar grins, some of them bumping shoulders and snickering. The only ones who weren't were Frederick and Chrom, who traded vaguely exasperated glances.

"…I suppose we knew this was going to happen, didn't we?"

"Yes, milord, we did."

They shared a small smile before Chrom pushed the gates open and the Shepherds slowly filtered into the room. "_We're _next, Robin. Couldn't you just listen to me once and not listen to requests when I'm not around?"

"Why would I do that?" Robin couldn't see the woman yet, but the huff was still clear in her voice… though, her tone had softened at (apparently) her husband's voice. "It's not like you'll ever get around to doing them by yourself."

Just before the next statement was uttered, Robin (as the last member of the current party) entered the room. So he wasn't sure if his sudden freeze and jaw drop was more because of the sight of the woman, or Chrom's chuckle of "Well, maybe because you're pregnant?"

The woman was a carbon copy of Robin. Everything, from the cheekbones to the eyes to even the coat were the same. Their hair was admittedly different, with hers long and tied back in 2 long pigtails, while Robin's was shorter and messily scattered about his head, but they shared the exact same grey coloring. But with only that exception (and a few marks and scars on each of them), Robin could have sworn he was staring in a mirror.

Well, except for the gender. …And the immense swelling of the girl's stomach.

Chrom hadn't been joking. His wife was really was pregnant, and it showed. As Robin could have guessed from his own slight frame, pregnancy didn't take well to his "twin." There were certainly smaller women out there, but this poor woman was still as round as an irritable balloon.

And yes, she _was_ irritable.

"I am _tired _of everyone holding that over my head like some sort of… of… _excuse!_ I'm totally capable of doing things on my own, you know!"

"I do hate to contradict you," Frederick began with a deceptively gentle smile, "but you _did _just sent a farmer packing who was merely asking for help with a small land dispute."

"Yeah, you chewed 'im out like you'd caught him crapping on the castle steps," Sully added, smirking.

Robin's returning glare was fierce, but significantly mollified by Chrom making his way behind her and rubbing her shoulders. "Don't get me started – a little left, Chrom, _left _\- on you two, I have enough nonsense to deal with- no, a little to the right now, I said _right_ – already, alright?!"

"Well, that's for sure." Her husband chuckled behind her. "A lot of stuff you _shouldn't _be dealing with."

"Don't start with me either, Chrom, I only have so much patience, and- Ahhh!" She clutched her stomach and glared down at it. "Morgan…! I _swear_, if you keep kicking me, I will train you _twice _as hard as the first time! A tactician never forgets!"

"Aw, come on, Mom, that's just wrong!" a voice chirped from another side of the room… a _male _voice.

Robin's stomach sunk even further.

A blue-haired boy strolled into the room from another hallway, grinning at his Mom and nodding at the Shepherds. An all-too-familiar purple-tinted cape scraped the ground behind his feet, and his face looked similarly familiar… just, a different gender than Robin was expecting.

And any doubt Robin had that this truly was this world's Morgan was banished when his eyes locked onto the boy's; immediately looking for an inconsistency, for a motive, for some exit strategy.

Like a tactician.

Oh, brother.

"Hey, who's he?" The Morgan asked. His Mom followed his finger towards Robin, and she promptly narrowed her eyes.

Robin knew that expression well. Just like _he'd_ get pissed when he missed something… so did she. And with her current emotional state, Robin was pretty sure he knew how she'd react.

"Okay… _why did nobody tell me that we had a Plegian hierophant in the gods-damned room?!_" She hissed, clenching her fists against the armrests. "Is he part of the-"

"Woah, Robin, take it easy," Chrom soothed from behind her. "I don't think he's a hierophant… or, at least, he's not in league with the current rebellion."

'_Current rebellion'…? _Robin's mind whirled around that statement. _So there really is another faction?_

"So? Got anything to say in your defense?"

Robin's irate "twin" dragged his mind back to the present. "'Defense'? The hell are you talking about, I haven't done anything wrong!"

Silence crashed onto the room, gently reminding Robin that he'd just cursed _and _spoken back to the Exalt's wife. "Uhm…" the tactician stammered. "I mean… innocent until proven guilty?"

Only Naga knows what would've happened next, but fortunately, Robin never had to. At the next moment, a side door to the room boomed open, letting a conversation between two women enter the corridor.

"…I'm serious, Luce, you looked _stylish_ in that kimono. Like, 'jaws-needing-to-be-picked-off-the-floor' stylish."

"D-Do you really think so? I have my doubts, personally. I don't think I can really pull off… what did you call it?"

"'Looking like a million coins'? Trust me, I know what I'm talking about when it comes to cash, girly, and you totally looked the price."

"…Thank you?"

"_It was a compliment!"_

"Heh, of course, Anna."

At that, two women entered the room. Anna looked just as she always did, large bag of merchandise bouncing on her red-shirted back, and the other girl (obviously this world's Lucina) strolled in beside her, blue hair flowing down her short navy cape and parallel falchion dangling off her side.

The tension in the room must have been strong, though, as both girls quickly quieted upon their entry to the hall. As Lucina's eyes were drawn to the center of attention, the guilty tactician himself, her eyebrows drew down as Falchion (though still sheathed) was suddenly gripped in one hand.

But Robin's attention was on the red-haired merchant, whose eyes widened and jaw dropped as she laid eyes on the tactician.

"Oh Naga… there's no way…"

The room's attention abruptly pivoted to the redhead, who dropped her bag with a heavy _clunk_ and walked in a semi-trance up to the grey-haired man.

"…Robin?"

The rest of the room almost drew a collective breath as the man chuckled and relaxed. "Anna. Though, I'm pretty sure I've never met _you _before."

"Naga's knees, it really is you, huh?" The merchant stared at him with a look between bafflement and amazement. "No other Robin in our sector can tell us apart. In that case,"

_Crack!_

The room once again reeled back as a red mark looking suspiciously like a hand slowly started forming on Robin's cheek. He started rubbing it. "I guess I sorta deserved that, huh?"

"I know it wasn't easy, leaving my sister and niece," Anna said, eyes narrowed. "But what you did to your family was unacceptable."

The female Robin's head shot up, though she remained silent as Anna went on. "But I also know why you did it. So, for everyone else that you'll affect in the future…" The merchant drew him into a hug, shutting her eyes as a little smile peeked over Robin's shoulder. "Thank you. Really, thank you so, so much."

"It's okay, Anna," the man said quietly, eyes on the rapidly paling face of his pregnant twin. "I get it. And you're very welcome."

"If I may interject," interrupted the bassoon tones of Frederick, spinning the duo's heads as they separated, "I believe an explanation is in order. Anna, I presume you know this man?"

The merchant girl shot a quick glance at the man, who nodded, flicking his hair as he did so. "I've given them a basic overview, but I haven't discussed exactly why I'm here."

"Gotcha." She nodded and turned to the group. "Essentially-"

"He did it, didn't he?" The female Robin's voice cut over Anna's as she looked at Robin with a pained, pinched frown. "He chose the other option. On Grima's back."

"…Yeah," Anna began, sweeping her gaze around the room as more and more shepherds caught the drift of Robin's comment. "In this world, Chrom dealt the finishing blow, so Grima is merely sleeping. But in his world… Grima is gone. Dead, deceased, kaput. This Robin chose the path of a _Grima-slayer_."

The room fell silent. Crackling torches were the only noise as all attention was drawn to Robin, now shuffling his feet and avoiding their gazes.

...Well, silent until: "…Jeez," muttered Inigo's lilting voice from the back. "Could they have invented a more ridiculous title?"

"Hey man, I didn't come up with it," Anna shrugged. "Blame the original author for that one."

Chrom's wife cut the two off. "We're getting off track here. You're saying that he killed Grima himself? That his Grima's _dead?_"

"Yeah." The male Robin nodded. "I'm still here, technically."

"But that's not right! There was supposed to be nearly no chance of returning!"

"Robin-"

"Gods, if I'd known that…"

"Hey, Robin-"

"Dammit, everything would've been-"

Before the woman could continue, Chrom interrupted with finality, gently grabbing her shoulders. "Robin, no! Don't say that! We need you here, all of us, okay? The Shepherds, the Yllisean people, and probably a couple nobles in Valm and Ferox all need your help. Not to mention Luce and Morg and me."

"Luce and Morg and _I_," his wife automatically corrected in a mutter. "Yeah, yeah, I know… I know."

But Robin knew there was nothing certain about his counterpart's scrunched eyebrows and thin lips, and how her eyes darted away from his.

"…That's all in the past now," the male Robin began, once again collecting all the room's attention. "Right now, it's irrelevant to the current decision we need to make. Which is, I guess, what to do with me."

"Quite true," Frederick picked up on that tack. "I suppose, since you have Anna's support, we can determine that you are not a current threat" (_'Current'_ _threat? _Robin thought with a mental eye roll) "to Yllise, so you are free to leave whenever you'd like."

"Or," Chrom butted in with his usual tact, "you could help us with our current problem."

Chrom's ever-faithful knight already had stiffened his posture at his master's first word. "Milord, although he may have helped his world, there's no telling-"

"If he's a parallel universe version of my wife," (the male Robin winced a little at that), "then I don't believe for a second that he'd be out to sabotage us or sell us out to the Plegian rebellion."

"What if he wants to go home, Chrom?"

The female Robin's question stumped her husband, as his face morphed into a '_huh, didn't think of that' _expression. Meanwhile, the woman turned to her counterpart (with all previous signs of hesitation disguised) with a question written on her face. "We really could use your help, but I don't want to force you into anything."

"…Honestly, I would just like to go home," Robin began slowly. "I really, really would. But…"

He glanced around at the many faces in the room, all morphed into varying familiar, foreign expressions. At the hope in some, the wariness in others, the rigidity and neutrality in a few. And at the _people_ he knew in each of them.

"…I don't think I could go home and just forget about neglecting you guys. And I know Anna- er, _my _Anna would agree. So," he sat down cross-legged on the floor and clasped his hands together, ignoring the single raised eyebrow from a certain blonde shepherd as he tried hard not to grin at Chrom's lit-up face, "what's the situation?"

The female Robin huffed a bit at the boys' expressions, lips momentarily curling slightly upwards, but continued regardless. "It's Plegia."

And the room's energy died like a match in water.

"After Grima's… defeat, all was quiet for about a year as Plegia began to rebuild itself. Obviously, they were out of most materials, so there was a trading system set up: they would trade a bunch of sea-based goods for lumber and metals. They were being watched over by Ferox; the feroxians were the only people that the Plegians would even think about letting into their territory, since Valm is rather far, and nearly everyone holds resentment towards Ylisse. To this day, it's dangerous to be an Ylissean in Plegia, since the dominant religion still worhips Grima."

"I barely get that," Morgan muttered on the side. "How can so many people still worship that… that _gods-damned snake _after he almost killed the entire population?"

"It's all about what you know, Morg, and all these people know is that the Dark Dragon is their deity," his mom said, automatically switching to her teacher voice. "And besides that, mind your manners, Morgan! There's a guest here!"

"Actually," the male Robin said, a smile curving his lips as he looked at Morgan. "I'm on the same page."

The boy's head popped up with raised eyebrows to meet the older man's gaze. The surprised eye contact lasted for a second until Morgan gave a little chuckle and nod at the man.

The female Robin's less-than-amused cough snagged both boys' attention. "_Anyways_, yes, Plegia is still hostile to Ylisse. However, that wasn't much of a problem for a while, since the Feroxians, although allied with us, are… well, they're considered our opposites in terms of how they carry themselves. The Plegians reacted well to that."

"Yeah, they're pretty rough and tumble," muttered the male Robin, scratching his chin. "But, 'for a while?'"

His counterpart nodded. "After the first anniversary of Grima's death, things began to change. There was a massive drought, and as crops died, the Feroxians suddenly faced animosity. Bandit attacks on their and our borders not only increased, but also began to sport a symbol of Grima: carved into houses, smeared onto the floor with blood… you name a way to do it, and they've done it."

"So, in their time of need, more people have returned to Grima?"

"Correct. But if that was it, it might not be too bad. The problem is _how _they return to Grima."

The male Robin's brows furrowed. "'How?'"

"How. These people aren't just returning to the Dark Dragon; they're being converted. Actively."

"So… A new hierophant?"

"_Several _new hierophants. We have nearly no information on them, but they're damn wily. None of our spies have made it back. But we know enough from the interrogations that they're definitely the instigators."

The silver-haired man froze for a moment. _…Spies? Interrogation?!_ _If she was like me, she'd absolutely _loathe_ both._ He flicked his eyes up.

"How many spies?"

"…Five."

Her quiet word did laps around the room until she continued a few moments later. "Regardless. We're all but certain that they're the ringleaders of this entire operation. We still don't know what to do about the famine, but if we can knock out this terrorist group…"

"…Then it's at least a good way to stop the attacks, right?" The male Robin sat pondering for a split second more, then looked up at his twin with an expectant look. "Well then… what's the first step?"

At that, the woman leaned forward with a growing smile, letting a familiar rush of excitement go through the silver-haired man as he saw a plan dancing in her mind. "I thought you'd never ask!"

* * *

The wind was howling in the dark of night, whipping around a short man struggling to make it to the dim light of a tavern beside a now-churning lake. His purple robe tossed about his legs as he went, making him curse as it tangled about him for the umpteenth time.

"I swear to _Grima himself, _I will _end_ you if you don't knock it off," the man muttered to the cape.

It didn't reply.

After making the 20-foot odyssey from the main road to the bar, he opened the door with a dull _ding ding _from the rusted bell attached to its top. Stumbling inside, he let the dank smell of alcohol and sweat slam into him while his belligerent coat fell to rest. Water dripping off him and warmth sneaking into his coat, he took a deep breath and let out a contented sigh.

"Think you've been scoutin' too long if you're enjoyin' _this _air."

The man turned. In the booth next to the door was another man, similarly dressed in a purple robe with the hood up, but possessing a much larger frame and muscle mass. An old axe with dark stains and chips covering it leaned next to him, but the larger man's hands were firmly around a tankard of some frothy drink, with several empty ones accompanying it.

"Ha! Like _you're _one to talk." The newcomer grinned as he sat across from the other man, mouth barely visible beneath his hood. "How many hours have you spent in this corner here, huh?"

"Doesn't matter. It's _my _corner."

"And don't I know it." The shorter man chuckled, slinging his previously hidden bow off his shoulders. "You only get angry when someone takes your spot, I swear."

The man grunted.

The duo sat in silence for a few minutes, until the shorter one glanced at the door. "Who else is coming tonight?"

"Just Ace."

"Oh yeah? Hey, it'll be a reunion! The first three members, just like old times!"

"Get a grip. It's still a meeting of The Flock."

The archer chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Doesn't mean I can't be nostalgic, ri-"

The door slammed open. Rain battered into the room, soaking the floor as another robed figure stepped into the room, footstep cracking on a creaky floorboard.

"Blitz. Cash." she barked at the men. "We're leaving, _now._"

"…Now?" the shorter 'Cash' said, taking another peek out a nearby window. "Like, now now?"

"_Now_," she repeated. "A Grima-Slayer's here. _In this world._"

With respectively wide eyes under their hoods' protection, the duo leapt up. Cash wiped the humor from his face and snatched his bow, while Blitz downed his drink and hefted his axe onto his shoulder. At a nod from their new companion, the trio left into the storm, leaving only empty tankards and a small amount of gold behind on the table.

As wind slammed the door shut, another denizen of the tavern rose from a table. The figure walked over with a _tap, tap, tap_ on the floor.

"Stingy," a female voice muttered, glancing at the change scattered on the table. "Especially for that amount of beer, come on now."

Glancing at the door again, the figure removed her hood, revealing a bright red ponytail and narrowed eyes.

"So," Anna muttered. "Just what the hell are you up to, 'Flock'?"

* * *

**AN: Woah, a new chapter?! And it hasn't even been 6 months yet!**

**Real quick note: No, the last paragraph of the first section ["At that, the woman leaned forward with a growing smile…"] isn't implying that male Robin has a crush on female Robin; he's just excited because he knows she has a plan.**

**Also: Yes, there is a character named Ace here, but no, it's not a One Piece crossover or anything. Sorry!**

**Shout-outs to: **_**bearclaw13**_**, **_**SuperPanda9000**_**, **_**FlameSpear**_**, **_**AshlyKagome15**_**, and **_**Lophii**_** for following; **_**SuperPanda9000**_**, **_**AshlyKagome15**_**, and **_**kingofdarkdragons**_** for fav'ing; and _pokemon-dot-rhoades_****, **_**bearclaw13**_**, and **_**e-parasite**_** for reviewing!**

**Okay, having said all that, I'd like to actually apologize for taking so long with this chapter. I don't really have an excuse per se, but I don't have as much writing time as I used to, sadly. I have so many ideas for this story, so I don't want to ever give it up entirely… but it's not my main focus right now. I can only truly give one story my attention at this point in my life, and I've decided to give it to my other story (for now).**

**However… I won't say that this story's on hiatus, because man, writing this was **_**so damn fun! **_**Seriously, I'd forgotten how fun it is to write these guys.**

**Okay, let me stop rambling here. What I'm **_**trying**_** to say is that I can't promise any update schedule for the time being, but I'll still keep writing chapters when I need a break from… well, anything, really. This story might not see an update for who knows how long, but I won't kill it yet!**

**Phew. So, with that said: thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, but let me know what you think if you've got the time to drop a review.**

**I'll see you guys in the next update… whenever that'll be!**


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